


Scandal In Central Park

by DillSmith, fridarules



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Confused Dean, Destiel Week, Destiel bitch, Escort Castiel, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sabriel Week, alcohol as copping mechanism, angst with happy ending, first fic for DillSmith, porn happens, read the end of the chapter FIRST for spoiling tags, secondary character suffering, somebody take the tagging away from me, we love Destiel beyond reason, we're happy, we're nice people and we're happy, we're not fans of tags ruining the surprise, wealthy Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-02-07 20:43:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12849141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DillSmith/pseuds/DillSmith, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fridarules/pseuds/fridarules
Summary: Dean's been a good son and he's been what his dad ordered him to be. For years he's loved only women. Now he can't take it anymore.





	1. Chapter One

Dean Winchester was the single most coveted person in NYC. John Winchester’s eldest son and manager of the Winchester Real Estate, Properties and Homes, the successful family business; a family dream finally come true.

Charles Winchester, a Scottish immigrant, penniless and hard worker, full of hope and love for his family, had built a little business in this new world. Charlie, that’s how his family called him, would be shocked to see what his great grandson achieved. After the 2008 crisis, the real estate business industry was compromised, the Winchester family was full of debts and the banks were ready to take whatever little money was left in their arcs.

Dean wouldn’t allow it, he left college and brought the phoenix back from its ashes; his good looks and charm would sell ice in the North Pole. Dean Winchester became the face of the company, and, in a few months, his face was all over the magazines. The media and the public loved him, and he knew how to use that on his benefit, a quick smile to the camera at a nightclub door, and his name and face would be all over the media on the next day.

Dean’s a lady’s man, he’s never been seen without a woman next to him, it’s usually a beautiful high-class woman who’d give her life for him. He dated Hanna for three years. She was an Irish top model, sweet and funny, but she was more focused on the media than on themselves, so their dates were always tainted by flashes and people asking for their autographs. It was exhausting. Dean had been considering their relationship for a while, unsure of their connection, because...he didn’t feel it. And after three years it was odd, it was strange, because, yes, he felt he was content with her… he cared for her, but the feeling was as far from love as it’d get.

One day, their anniversary, they were walking around Central Park and suddenly, out of an impulse, Dean took her hand, looked at her in the eyes, smiled, and, used to be surrounded by a thousand reporters to even noticed the flashes, he told her “Hanna, you know? It’s been three crazy years, the longest relationship I’ve ever had, these years were fun and fantastic,” Hanna covered her mouth in shock, looked around thinking he was aiming for a ring, and then he said “but this is not for me,” she choked on his words, he let her hand fall and put his own in his trousers pockets and whispered “I’m sorry but I don’t feel any girl’s enough for me, so… you know… ta ta, babe, see you ‘round.”

She watched him leave, too shocked to move, and when she did it was to awkwardly smile at the paparazzi that were around. She knew she should cry, it’d look awesome on the cover of the magazines, it’s buy her screen time to live by for a year… only the tears didn't come. That made her think that he was probably right. She wouldn’t voice it, though. Instead, she put on her Dior shades in a very Audrey Hepburn way, she walked away,

Once home, the dam broke, and Hanna cried an ocean, then she undressed, filled the bathtub and sat in warm soapy water to think. She couldn’t believe it, she was so sure he was the one, she was ready to fulfill all his fantasies without a second thought. She looked at herself in the hand mirror she had next to the tub and yeah, she was perfect… the perfect girl for the perfect man, for a god. She cried until she couldn’t anymore. What would she do now? There was nobody like him. Dean was all she had, and she was nothing without him.

Two days later she felt the urge to go out and feel the sun, so she called her friend and told her to meet her at the cafe across Dean’s office with the hope of him seeing her and change his mind.

She put on her favorite sundress, sandal shoes, her biggest sunglasses and headed out. She was decidedly walking towards the cafe on the opposite side of the street, when she saw him. He was sipping his latte, laughing at something the waitress had said and she just lost it. Dean laughing with someone else was all Hanna needed to realize that she really cared for him, that all those things she said to herself on the past few days were just lies, she did love him. Dean was hers, Hanna was furious, she didn’t know what to do, so she started running, blind with rage, her legs hurting with the effort to just  _ get there right this second, _ but the crosswalk was nowhere close, she just decided to cross mid street because she needed to be by his table right now. As she was crossing, her sandal heel broke making her stumble, losing balance and hurting her ankle. But she wouldn’t stop, she needed to touch him one more time, melt into him forever. She continued limp-crossing the street with her eyes fixed on Dean, she never saw the car coming or the screams of the people on the street that were trying to warn her. When the car hit her, she didn’t even feel it. She was lifted in the air and landed on her side, legs spread on the pavement. Her face was facing the café and she saw him looking at her in horror, but seeing him, all she could think of was that Dean would come up to her and heal her, because he was all she needed. He’d save her because he was the love of her life, he’d come up to her and everything would be alright… and that was exactly when the lights went off.

Dean stayed by her side until the ambulance finally arrived. The police took everybody’s names and phone numbers and order the little crowd that had gathered around the accident area to take off. Dean remained there, he was about to offer to ride the ambulance with her, but her friend glared at him, shouting that it was all his fault, that he was the worst man ever. So, Dean took a step back and let her go to the hospital with Hanna.

Dean remained on the sidewalk for a while, dumbstruck and feeling guilty as hell. It wasn’t that he regretted having dumped her, she’d become so shallow that it was hard for Dean to hold any sort of remotely intelligent conversation with her. Sex was great, though, but somehow it wasn’t enough anymore.

So, no, he wasn’t giving his decision a second thought, although he could understand now that he could have thought of a better way to end their relationship, but it was too late.

For a few days after the accident Dean had tried to visit her at the hospital, he called her mother to check on her health, but nobody would tell him anything so, at a point, he got the memo and just put her on the back of his mind. The tabloids fed on them for a couple of numbers, and the tv magazines forgot about them when something more succulent and bizarre came around.

Dean then dove into work, he had five projects already approved by the city but one of them was killing him. The Scarlet Tower, a luxurious building like the city’s never seen before. Expensive and exclusive even for New York’s standards. Dean was the face of the project, as usual, but this time while the firm acquired all the available lofts and penthouses, he felt numbed. He’d wake up and looked at his reflection on the wall size mirror of his bedroom and damn if he could find a bit of himself on that image. He’d shower and dress in his finest and, watching his own fingers work magic on the tie he’d chosen for the day, he’d froze at the sight of his empty eyes, he was a beautiful soulless shell, just a mockery of the man he used to be. He was holding the world in his hands, yet he felt a puppet. Years ago, he put the weight of the company on his own shoulders to save his family, but didn’t realized that by doing so, he had also sold his soul to the devil.

Hanna was barely alive. She almost died because of him but her decadence had begun long before, it started when she met him. She used to be a funny girl, and he loved to be around her, watch movies and just spend their days together, dressed in jeans and laughing until they were breathless. In time she’d changed, in her walk-in closet there were only designer clothes, expensive and exclusive, her shoes and sandals took a full wall size cabinet. Their trips were no longer fun, all she wanted to do was shopping and have sex in the Presidential room of the most expensive hotel in the city. Dean wanted to give it all to her, she was his girlfriend and he had the money, so why not. But the thing was that in time he felt she only wanted to be by his side to see her name and face on every magazine in the world.

Dean wondered what had happened to that beautiful fresh girl who had so many dreams and that had accomplished most of them by his side. Three years later she was a shadow of the woman Dean had once loved, he could not get over her face as she ran towards him on the street, all crazy eyes and angry look. So yes, Dean felt guilty, but not for the accident. He felt guilty for having allowed that beautiful innocent young girl to get close to him, cursing her by just being with him.

Dreamless lonely nights have never been good to Dean. Tonight, after the second bottle of whiskey was gulped down like water, with his face lighted by just the dim moonlight coming through the spotless window glass, he could be honest with himself, he always is, he usually is… sometimes he can be… if he’s got a time alone, that’s the only moment he can be his true self.

The world wouldn’t understand him, the world would always see him as a pretty face, a body made in heaven, and a magical wallet that would never cease to provide money. They wouldn’t see the sacrifice, the work behind the money, the loneliness. He’d never tell a soul about it, he’d never ask for help. He’ll remain in this hell of his own making. There was no way out, his father and brother were the only thing he’s got left and he wouldn’t dare to disappoint them. Sammy, his number one priority, will become the doctor he wants to be, Dean will make sure he remains free of this plastic magazine world Dean’s trapped in. He won’t let Sam fall. He’s fallen for the two of them.

In his drunken state, his mind wandered through the faces of the women that had shared his bed in the past years, some of them heading in for a good night of sex with the famous playboy -and try to make it to the gossip magazines the next day-, others would try to make it to his heart and never succeeding. Any other man would feel satisfied of having so many women ready to wrinkle his sheets and willing to fulfill his every fantasy. Dean would lose himself in the silky curves of a feminine body, soft in all the right places, and afterwards, once the not so lady had gone home driven by one of his chauffeurs, he’d confess to José Cuervo how much he wanted to bring another kind of fantasy to life.

This was something that’d been on the back of his mind for a very long time now, he wished he could take it off his system already, so he could continue with his ‘women loving life’, fully convinced that once the  _ twisted  _ fantasy had come true, he would continue with his regular taste in bed partners. Only... Was it worth the risk? Would it be worth to have everything he’d been working for, everything he’d sacrificed his life for just… vanished?

Dean had a little secret. He’d always liked boys too.

For years he had been convinced that as women dressed up for another woman, men worked out for another man to admire their bodies or to compete, whatever the reason he’d always felt like he couldn’t take his eyes off a well-shaped muscular manly body. He liked to call some gentlemen’s attention at the gym, too. Having guys looking at his shaped body after hours of working out didn’t make him feel uncomfortable at all, he felt proud of his gym results. He looked amazing in a suit, and even more eatable in short, his bow legs all sweaty from exercising.  

His interest in men went back to his early teen years, his dad had once walked into his bedroom, to find him visually aroused while looking at a men’s underwear catalogue. He had a split second to thank God that he hadn’t reached the point to take his dick out of his pants before a slap hit him, the first of the many that John landed on him that day, screaming hateful things like ‘No son of mine is a faggot’, or ‘You’ve learnt it from those useless friends of yours’… ‘Winchester men are  _ not  _ losers.’ Dean stayed at home for as long as the bruises took to fade. After that and the silent treatment his dad gave him for almost two weeks, he tried his best to be a ‘real man’. He managed to do it for the most part of the next few years, until a hot summer afternoon a guy in a bar kissed him.

Richard.

Richard was a good friend of Dean’s, part of his track team; the whole team was in fact celebrating the end of the season and all of them had a couple too many beers and tequila shots, Dean excused himself from the table to go take a leak and never saw Richard following him until he was at the urinal next to his. They drunkenly smiled to each other while finishing their business and once they were tucked into their own pants, Dean felt a tug on his shoulder that made him turn around to face Rich’s red face, who closed the distance in a second and locked his lips to Dean’s for the whole length of two seconds.

Rich then turned around to wash his hands and went out of the bathroom with a sappy smile, leaving a confused as hell Dean behind, still standing in the same spot of the dirty bathroom floor.  Dean startled as the door was slammed shot, and savored his lips, chasing Rich’s taste. He raised his hand, reaching up to touch his own lips, a smile forming now that the shock had passed, he tried to save in his memory the most perfect short kiss he ever had. He stormed out of the bathroom to drag Richard out of the bar and do some more exploratory kissing, but he was metaphorically slapped by the sight of Richard whispering sweet nothings into the waitress’ ear. He thought for a moment to fight for his friend’s attention, but that would have meant to make a scene, and then everyone would know… Dean couldn’t do that, he had a reputation to keep and a father to respond to… he left the bar without saying goodbye and he never saw Rich again.

Back then Dean had tried to keep his depression at bay, for his baby brother’s sake. He didn’t want Sammy to find out his not so new interest, neither he wanted his dad to somehow figure it out and have an excuse to throw him out of the house or something. It was clear he did like boys and girls, and the need to experience that kind of kiss again.

Then one day, all the sudden, he found himself forced to take over the family business, so he just set his urges and depression on the back of his mind, but the itch never truly disappeared. He did his best to keep the appearances of being a ladies’ man, but after so many years of playing the playboy, of sleeping with as many women as he found willing, he just now wished he could just lie in an eternal endless dream, just like Hanna, and never wake up again. That would be preferable to reality of denying himself his true desires.

So, with the booze still ringing in his head, now visions of faceless men floating away behind closed eyes, he was horny as hell palming himself over the slacks. He turned on his computer to surf for porn, gay porn. He got harder by the webpage, clicking on links like a madman, not finding anything that would throw him over the edge. He purposely avoided touching himself, he wanted to find that something that he couldn’t resist before getting to  _ that  _ point.

He was reaching out for his dick to finish his business, convinced after ten minutes that he wasn’t gonna find anything interesting enough, when he saw  _ him _ . The page was rather simple, more like an escort blog than anything, but Dean couldn’t care less, all he could see were those three letters spelling CAS in catastrophe font size and two blue eyes piercing his soul through the screen watching him intently over his shoulder to show off his wings tattoo that spread over his shoulder blades.

Dean’s mouth felt suddenly dry, his cock twitching in his slacks, and a guttural moan rumbling in his throat. He surged forward, getting as closer to the screen as possible, he had to be dreaming, Dean was sure of it, there was no way in hell a guy could look so good, so perfect. Photoshop, that was it… the picture had been retouched by professionals and that’s why he looked so beautiful. Dean pondered about it while taking gulps of whiskey directly from the bottle, his mind now more than fuzzy. Yeah, photoshop and just another faggot trying to make easy money tricking some pervert fat men into paying him in exchange for a quick blowjob or something equally dull. His eyes watering from the sting of alcohol going down his throat, his mind almost numb and his other hand, the one not gripping the bottle, acting on its own accord, grabbed the phone and dialed the number that shone on the screen. That was his story and he’d stuck to it under any kind of torture.

“Hello, this is Cas… what is your fantasy?” the gravelly voice asked on the phone and Dean almost came right then and there… inside his slacks.

“Uhm yeah, hi… I was wondering if you have time to come over to my apartment.”

“Sounds nice… you want to know my…” Cas trailed off.

“No, no, that’s okay… we can discuss your payment in person… here’s the address, you have to announce yourself at the front desk…” Dean gave Cas the address and his name and hung up when Cas tried to start his sexy talk.

Dean immediately threw his phone across the room, he didn’t want to chicken out and callback to cancel. What was the worst that could happen? This was his cave, only Sam knew about its location and since his brother wasn’t even in the city, it was a safe place to... experiment. His cell phone was on private so there was no way for the guy to track him afterwards, and as for the apartment, he could always sell the place and buy another penthouse. Having given the guy, his full name never hit him as inconvenient, to say the least.

He glared at the empty bottle for a good part of a minute and then let it fall to the bin next to the desk. He reclined on the chair, closing his eyes to keep them from hurting from the lights coming through the window. Dean didn’t realize he had fallen asleep until a ring on the desk phone woke him up. The receptionist reported a man asking to go up to his apartment.

“Sir, sorry to bother you but there’s a… uhm, a gentleman asking to go up to your penthouse.” he waited for Dean to answer but hearing nothing, he pushed, “He says his name is Cas, he’s… odd, if I may say… you want me to ask him to leave?” The receptionist, Garth, Dean remembered, sounded confused and shocked for some reason Dean couldn’t get.

Dean was still trying to focus on what Garth was saying, but the words weren’t making any sense... His head throbbed, and his eyes hurt, he leaned on the desk to alleviate some pain from the light when he moved the mouse with his elbow. The screen came to life with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen and then it all came back to his memory in a rush. Dean got up from the chair as ejected by a secret spring, looked around and then he just…

“No! No, Garth, send him up. Thanks.!” he hung up the phone and went straight to the bathroom for some serious teeth brushing. He rushed to his bedroom tugging his wrinkled shirt off, his slacks mid hip and already trying to put on some fresh clothes, leaving the changed clothing spread on the reception floor.

Breathless, he checked himself in the mirror next to the door, ran his fingers through his short hair spiking it a bit here, a bit there. He winked at his reflection, coy. But the coyness lasted just a split second, because once he heard a soft knock on the door, he started panicking.

What to do? He wanted this, he knew that if he’d chicken out there would be no second chance. He’s felt this itch his whole life, he  _ needed  _ to know. No. It was too dangerous, his family and company were his top priorities. A simple mistake could make it all go to the drains, the whole payroll could lose their jobs, and that made about two hundred families left out on the street.

The knock on the door, more insistent now, took him out of his thoughts. Dean looked at the camera screen showing the tallest, most masculine and gorgeous guy Dean’s ever seen. He got lost in that image, they guy looked relaxed, which given the reason he was there, was a little odd, if you’d asked Dean. The guy suddenly looked towards the camera and winked, and Dean did  _ not  _ whimper.

The escort outside the door smiled to the camera and Dean almost lost his balance, shit he was more beautiful than the picture in the blog. There it went the photoshop theory… and his doubts.

Dean cracked the door open after taking a big gulp of air and he slowly moved to the side to let the most breathtaking man he’s ever seen walk in.

“Hey, big real estate man, still want me or maybe I should leave?” Cas questioned from his place leaning on the door frame, half in-half out of the apartment.

Those piercing blue eyes sent Dean’s remaining doubts flying out of the corridor, he took Cas’ hand and tug him in, conspiratorially whispering on his ear “Don’t you dare leaving, we’ve got work to do.”


	2. CHAPTER 2

**CHAPTER 2**

 

The air that Dean had let out to speak into Cas’s ear as he led him in, made the escort’s skin tickle and a muffled gasp escaped his mouth. 

 

Dean tried the doorknob to make sure the door was closed and, when he turned, he found Cas looking around the room. Dean had forgotten about the clothes on the floor and, to be honest, if it was someone else there, he’d just shrug it off… but it was Cas there and the apology was ready on his lips, the smirk on the guy’s mouth made him cut his own words, though. 

 

“Please tell me the cleaning lady’s not one of your fantasies… I haven’t brought my french maid’s costume with me …” Cas amusedly said, coming closer to Dean to the point where their mouths were almost touching. “So, big shot, what’s your plan for the night?”

 

Two minutes, only two minutes had passed since he met this angel in the flesh and he already felt his world being turned upside down by this marvelous shining soul. Dean forgot all about his clothes on the floor, the daze of alcohol in his head and the lock on the door. He was well aware of the way his hands were shaking, his skin burning in need to be touched, his heart ready to explode… he cleared his throat, trying to find his voice again. Without taking his eyes off those deep blue eyes, he asked, “ehm, would you like something to drink?”

 

Cas took a step back, smirking coyly and shaking his head in a slight move, “Sorry, love, but I don’t drink on the job. It… impedes my judgement and that,” he took a step closer once again, only shorter this time, “that can be dangerous…” Cas let out a hand to cup Dean’s face and tracing his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone, he mischievously licked his lips and said, “I could drink from your mouth, though.” he closed the gap between them and kissed Dean softly on closed lips.

 

Dean went rigid. Of course he knew that that thing happening there was long time due, but he made the call while intoxicated and his mind was a swirl of torrid gay porn images. Now the shock of reality, that warm body merely a few millimeters from his… oh god those lips on his, manly lips… it was… was...

 

A flash to the past that lasted less than a Planck unit showed Rick’s face and all the anguish, all the feelings and desire that he had locked up so long ago, rushed to the surface. He allowed himself a millisecond of grieve for that thing with Rick that hadn’t been and then shook his head and made his final decision. No way in hell was he going to lose this too. 

 

He surged forward, crushing his lips onto Cas’ in a kiss that was anything but chaste. His hands searching blindly for the escort’s shoulders, and finally… finally made him close the tiny gap between their bodies.

 

The kiss was a mess of lips and tongues, discoordinated and intuitive… from both parts. That seemed to struck on the escort, if the sounds coming from the man’s throat were any indication. Dean was sure Cas should be used to this, to be a convenient body for his clients to use, but his actions told otherwise. Those hands roaming his body, that mouth eating him alive, the way their bodies fit together…

 

“So, rubber… which one you like best?” Cas asked with some difficulty, trying to catch his breath.

 

“Emm, dunno, really… don’t you have something textured?” Dean required, half joking out of embarrassment.

 

Cas left out a chuckle, “First timer, uh? Textured condoms are a risky choice for anal sex… it could break and… well, you get the picture. I can offer you some flavoured ones for oral sex and I think I still have a couple of lubed ones here somewhere.” he searched through his bag, taking some of its content and throwing the bag towards the bed on the other room.

 

A gasp escaped Dean’s mouth as he felt Cas’ hand unbuckling his belt, their noses touching, breathing each other’s air and staring intensely into one another. The button went out of the way in a second and, winking, Cas unbuttoned Dean’s shirt and took it out in a practiced move. If Dean had to be honest, he missed those lips the second they left his to mouth over his chin and neck, Dean’s chest started to move up and down in a pace that reflected his excitement when he realized Cas was going on his knees… it was a sudden move and the slacks went down with it, as if the escort was hungry for flesh. 

 

Dean’s knees threatened to buckle as Cas rolled the condom on him and engulfed his shaft in one go, scratching his tights slightly, working his tongue around and bobbing his head to make it all wet with spit. Once he’d got Dean’s dick rock hard - it didn’t take much more than half a minute- proud of his skills, he looked up at Dean -cock still halfway in, halfway out of his mouth- and winking at the tall, gorgeous, freckled man, he resumed his work.

 

Dean remained still, unbelieving that this was actually happening. When Cas started eating him for the second time, he remembered he could actually move. His hand flew to Cas’ hair, carding his fingers through the soft silky strands, a sweet caress that seemed to have a desired effect on the man at his feet, if his moans were anything to go by. Dean’s other hand went to Cas’ neck and beyond, under the escort’s collar, and he hated the fabric hiding the guy’s body, and those wings he wanted so much to touch and lick, and then allow that beautiful angel to take him out of hell and fly away together. He suddenly realized he wanted to be rescued, he needed to have this for himself.

 

And for everything that’s sacred, he would.

 

Cas licked his way up until he was on his feet, and resumed kissing Dean, and let himself be guided towards the left where he could see the king size bed waiting for them. On their way, Cas’ clothes were torn apart by Dean, and he had a second to watch them fall next to Dean’s. For some reason that made him happy. Dean smiled at Cas when he realized the escort had no underwear and he was touching flesh, intimate soft skin. He loved it. 

 

Dean aligned his body with Cas’ and their erections finally touched. From then on they were ruled by euphoria. Cas’ dick went from boner to full mast in a heartbeat when he was thrown onto the bed, biting his lower lip, he leaned up on his elbows and gave Dean a meaningful look opening his legs… inviting… Dean wouldn’t stop, he needed to _take take take_ _right now_ , he positioned himself between Cas’ legs, spreading them further and was pleasantly surprised to find his rim lubed up and almost ready to go.

 

But Dean wanted the whole experience, since he was sure that  it was a one time thing, he’d take this need out of his system and he’d go back to normal. He pulled up Cas’ left leg over his own shoulder and, kissing his inner thigh, he took the lube to massage Cas’ opening with care, managing the most delicious noises from him. Cas had never been touched with such a reverence before, not in all the years he’d been doing this and he doubted he’d ever experience  again. He had found a new drug, one that he was already addicted to; he’d do it again and for free, if that meant he’d get to be the focus of this man’s tender attention. 

 

Cas rose up to kiss Dean, passionate and urging, placing a new condom in his palm as if asking to rush things up and he couldn’t recognise himself… never in the history of ever had the escort felt that way. 

 

As for Dean, there was a rush in his head that he could no longer blame on the alcohol, but he still managed to put on the condom, and Cas felt unprofessional once again, this night wasn’t about him, it was about his client but he couldn’t help it. 

 

Cas was lost in his thoughts so when he felt the head of Dean’s cock entering him, a jolt of pleasure carried thought his soul and it felt… glorious. Dean entered him in a single move, slow and steady and he paused at the moment of bottoming out, and Cas would have laughed because he didn’t need that kind of consideration, and yet it made him feel special. 

 

Dean then started to move, slow at first but he couldn’t control himself for too long, he started thrusting as fast as he could go, holding Cas’ leg over his shoulder and the other hand tracing paths over his chest. Dean was transfixed, there was nothing he was seeing that he didn’t find gorgeous. Yet, this lewd movement wouldn’t allow him to last for too long and he wanted to, so he let Cas’ leg go and he sat on the bed, leaning backwards on the headboard, tempting… Cas took the clue and sat on him, impaling himself on Dean’s cock, rocking incessantly while kissing him and touching him all around. Dean made a move to take Cas’ dick in his hand only to get it battled away. Cas reached backwards to cup Dean’s balls and the sounds that came out of him were pornographic. 

 

Cas was in control, Dean wanted to move but couldn’t, the escort then pulled himself up just to pull down again, only with his back to Dean, who was now in heaven… those wings he’d been desperate to touch and lick were there for him only. He sat up, pulling his arms around Cas’ torso, and then he just planted a thousand kisses on Cas’ back, on each inked feather, drinking from Cas’ skin as if he was a parched man. He accompanied the man on his lap on his delicious bouncing, up and down on his dick. 

 

Dean was so lost in sensation, so lost in the feeling of that velvety tightness surrounding him that he barely registered his world turning around. One minute he was on his way to his orgasm and the next he found himself planted face down on the memory foam. He didn’t know what Cas had in store but he could imagine it. He wanted to complain, he wanted to say  _ no  _ because he was  _ not  _ a bottom but all his protests hit the wall when a wet warm tongue tickled his rim. Dean had never been rimmed before, and he never expected to like it but… goddammit, it felt good. 

 

A tiny little voice at the back of his mind, a part that could still hold an intelligent thought, told him that this was exactly what he needed, he needed to give up control. In fact, it all felt so good that he didn’t even try to protest when the first knuckle of Cas’ lubed index went exploratorily in, because, apart from a burning sensation, it didn’t feel bad… like at all. 

 

Encouraged by Dean’s lack of complaint, Cas kept pushing his index in, pad up, while licking Dean’s spine from the small of his back to his neck, using enough teeth to give him goosebumps but not enough to break the skin. Dean could only moan and then a second finger joined the first. That’s how, slowly and tenderly, Cas prepared Dean, scissoring, twisting his fingers, opening him and making him a mess of need underneath him.

 

Cas knew that he probably wouldn’t get paid for taking this kind of liberty when it hadn’t been specifically asked by his client, but he couldn’t care less. He took his lubed fingers out and whispered “Stay” on Dean’s ear and he supposed that the sound coming out of his client was a “‘kay”

 

He went to his bag by the door to look for more condoms and more lube, and came back to his place at Dean’s back. He suited up and positioned himself at Dean’s entrance and leaned forward to ask for permission, “You okay with this?”

 

All the answer he got was Dean’s ass pushing back against his dick, and Cas couldn’t help but to push forward. They moaned in unison as he entered Dean for the first time ever. Dean’s rim reflexively clenched around the head and Cas had to help him relax with loving lips on Dean’s shoulder blades and the sweetest words Dean’s ever heard. The warm tightness felt glorious and Cas couldn’t stop himself from pushing in until he bottomed out. 

 

Dean was panting underneath him, trying to control the pain of being ripped open for the first time and losing his erection due to said pain. He needed time to adjust and Cas was willing to give it to him. The escort continued to kiss his back and his neck for what it seemed an eternity; nibbling at his earlobe, biting and licking, mumbling praises to his body and his ass, telling him how beautiful he was, how gorgeous and perfect he looked. Dean could feel Cas’ dick pulsing inside him and he loved it.

 

After a few minutes, Cas couldn’t hold himself any longer and began to move, slowly at first, little thrusts at the beginning and then driving almost all the way out and then all the way in again just as slow. 

 

He was extremely careful, he knew Dean’s never had anything inside him, that much was obvious, so he was all small movements, constant but gentle. Slowly but steadily they worked themselves to a point of no return. Dean’s cock was already fully hard against the bed spread, he was enjoying the friction he was getting from being trapped between his stomach and the mattress. If Dean had ever had any doubts, this was the undeniable proof that this was all he had ever wanted. 

 

Cas was now thrusting into him with everything he had, his voice lost in a mix of moans and grunts. A hand on Dean’s neck, holding him down, making his screams and pleases muffled by his face on the mattress.

 

All of a sudden, Dean felt his world move again, and a fresh air wave hit his face as he was spinned around and then he was facing Cas. He didn’t had time to register that his ass was empty and he was about to protest when Cas slammed back home again.

 

“I’m sorry, I need to see you.” Was all Cas could say, apologetic, and Dean could only nod as he leaned up to capture Cas’ lips with his. Cas couldn’t help but to speed up and in a matter of minutes they were ready to climax. Dean couldn’t move, he couldn’t even scream anymore, he was just focused on breathing. 

 

Cas held Dean’s wrists with one hand and put them above his head, his other hand holding Dean’s leg up, for the sake of depth.  

 

The hold on his wrist was strong, Cas was leaned along Dean’s body, one leg help up and the other pressed under Cas’ right leg… every single brain cell screamed  _ trapped  _ and Dean loved it. He had never felt so free until he was totally at this angel’s mercy.

 

He wouldn’t change a thing.

 

Dean’s dick was now over stimulated by their combined bodies, the friction maddening. Cas let Dean’s wrists go, moving upwards while kissing Dean’s sternum, he got on his knees and grabbed Dean’s other leg on the air and looked at his dick moving in and out of this god’s ass, he wanted this to last forever, he wanted to fuck this delicious ass every day for the rest of his life… and then he hit Dean’s prostate for the first time and Dean came with a shout, spurting his thick white sperm over his chest. Watching him fighting to catch his breath, eyes closed and mouth halfway open, made it impossible for Cas to hold back anymore. He started thrusting harder, his balls slapping Dean’s ass and that’s when he lost it. He shook violently as he filled the condom inside Dean’s rectum and collapsed on top of him.

Dean woke up with the sun filtering through the curtains. He realized he must have passed out last night and couldn’t help it to feel disappointed to find himself alone in bed. The pain in his ass assured him that the events of the previous night were not a dream. As he stumble into the bathroom the after sex first moments came back to him, he remembered paying Cas and reading something odd in his face, maybe he didn’t pay him enough? Or maybe he was expecting round two? Either Way, Cas didn’t say a word, he just took the money, grabbed his stuff, got dressed and left without a word. Dean passed out for good the moment his front door was slammed shut.

 

Later, Dean was coming out of the shower and all he could think of was that he’d love to see Cas again, but he knew, he just  _ knew  _ that it wasn’t the smart thing to do. This had to stay a one time thing. No replays, no second thoughts. 

 

He dressed in his best suit, he went to the main window while working on a windsor knot on his nicer blue tie, he peeked out only to wince at the bright sunlight. He had entertained the thought of calling in sick, he was the boss after all, but his sense of responsibility was too strong, so, doing his best to keep his funny walk to the minimum, Dean arrived to his office in time, just like every other day. 

 

He went to his office, asked his assistant for a cup of coffee, black and sweet, and he carefully sat at his desk. Having a very comfortable and soft chair to sit on, made Dean really happy, even though trying to find the right angle for his ass not to hurt that much was a challenge.

 

He was sipping his coffee and going through his mailing when a black envelope called his attention. There was no identifying mark, no return address. Just a black envelope with his name in calligraphy. He looked at the envelope for a couple of minutes, wondering if he shouldn’t send it to test before opening it. It was heavy, it seemed to have more than a piece of paper inside. His mind started to race through the possibilities, and none of them were good. 

 

He was still considering sending the envelope to the lab when he found his fingers opening it at their own accord. 

 

Inside there were two photos, one of him fucking Cas and one of Cas fucking him. A single note read: “There are more where these came from, hell, there’s even a video. Moonlight does wonders for bedroom photography, don’t you think? Enjoy, I’ll let you know how to pay.” 

  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

While Dean spent his days working his ass off, trying to keep their father happy by dating woman after woman, rebuilding the family empire back up from its ashes, Sam was free to be himself.

 

Throughout his young life, Sam went through the many changes in his family life fully aware of the fact that it had been his brother’s sacrifice that had transformed the bankruptcy into wealthness, family on the way to become richer than any of them had ever imagined. When they moved from their tiny apartment in Queens to a classy two stories house in Central Park, he did it with a book in his hands. He had never had to worry about their dad’s opinion of him simply because he never cared. Sam Winchester was who he wanted to be, he had decided that his career and his sexuality were his own to decide and explore and not his dad’s to boss him around and force him into his own standards. 

 

Of course it was easier for Sam than it was ever for Dean, having his big brother to stand up for him and protect him from their dad’s rage. From him he learnt that to be a Winchester wasn’t about power or money, it was about family, it was about being a good man, never weak or cowardly, and never ever neglecting  _ him _ . Even with all the hard work, the parties and the tumultuous relationships, Dean had always find time to spend with his nerdy little brother -quality time, bonding time. The same couldn’t be said about that strict cold hearted father of theirs, who considered the family his to do as he pleased, only satisfied if his children would fulfill his standards.

 

Being a bookworm, the changes around him -house, neighbourhood, designer wardrobe- meant very little to Sam. Dean always made sure his baby brother would know that their new status was the result of hard work and not some lucky strike. Sam Winchester got the memo. He was a hard worker himself,  doing his best to make his big brother proud; studying so much that sometimes Dean had to take him out by force, so he could breathe some fresh air. 

 

Sam barely remembered his mom, she had died a long time ago, after months of fighting breast cancer, before Sam could take his first steps or said his first words. 

 

He had tried for a very long time, once he was old enough to realize he was missing something, to have his dad to talk about her. He wanted to remember, he wanted lent memories of her with him in arms, breastfeeding, he wanted the image of her way to look at him when he was asleep, anything, anything that would construct a memory for him. He got all that from Dean instead because, when asked, his dad would only scowl at him and go get drunk on the fire stairs in their little apartment and years later at the bar in one of the many rooms of the mansion. 

 

Dean would never back up from Sam’s questions. He’d spend hours going through his own memories of their mom. Sam would sit and listen -and through his brother’s tale, he’d  _ see _ . 

  
  


“She was so beautiful, Sammy. I remember her entering our house with you in a bundle in her arms… she looked radiant and she didn’t stop smiling as she put you in my arms and told me that I’d never be alone because I was a big brother now.” Dean one day told Sam, when John had yelled at him to stop asking about Mary, that she was gone and he didn’t want to talk about her with anyone, because she was his and no one else’s business. He was obviously drunk… and being his own shitty self.

Dean put on the kettle to make some green tea for Sam. They sat opposite each other at the kitchen table and kept silent for a couple of minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. 

 

“You remember her voice?” Sam asked, suddenly breaking the silence.

 

Dean looked up from his coffee and smiled, “Of course I do, Sammy.” he looked away, as if trying to organize his thoughts. “She had a clear voice, like crystal, I don’t know how to describe it.”

 

 

_ Four years old Dean sat on the floor of the nursery watching his mother bottle feed baby Sammy. Her mom’s hair sparkling with the sunlight. The breeze was soft and the air smelled like summer and baby powder.  _

 

_ “Someone was hungry, don’t you think?” she said winking at him. _

 

_ Dean looked up at his mom, laughing at Sammy’s red face as he cooed and flapped his little arms around trying to catch his mom’s nose. Dean played with his car on the carpet, listening to Mary hum The Beatles as he put baby Sam in his crib and waited for him to fall asleep. _

 

_ She then took Dean in her arms, and sat back on her rocking chair and kissed him on his temple. “You know, baby? Sammy’s very lucky to have you as his older brother.” she whispered to him. Mary got up, still holding Dean in her arms, and headed to the shelf on the wall where a statue of an angel was strategically placed among decorative toys. “See this here, Dean? This is an angel. Angels are beautiful kind creatures created by God to watch over humanity.” She took the angel and gave it to Dean to hold so she could hold Dean more easily, “Don’t drop it, okay, baby?” she said, walking towards the crib to watch baby Sam sleeping, “Angels are watching over you, my babies, they’re protecting you.” she declared and looked around as if praying for some superior being to hear her and grant her her wish to shield her children from evil, even after she was gone. “I know they’ll keep you safe.” _

 

_ And they were, and for a while the Winchester kids were happy children too, but then Mary’s health got worse and all the laughter and the joy that used to brighten the house just withered and died. _

 

-

So Dean told Sam all of that,  the many times he had walked on her leaning on the crib, whispering words of love to him. And Sam listened carefully, his eyes wide and a bit watered with tears of emotion. They finished their beverages in silent contemplation of everything Dean shared with Sam, happy and sad at the same time, the Winchester way.

 

Because all the happiness that had once surrounded them, was swiped away the moment Mary Campbell-Winchester died. John lost control of his life and with it, his children lost their father too. 

 

For a while he had the help of friends to take care of the kids and the house, while he’d mope around and sank the family business deeper into debt. In time, the tender loving father that had once showed them so much love, morphed into a cold calculating creature, impossible to please.

 

Dean was four years older, so Sam had always have the chance to understand Dean’s struggle to please his dad’s rules. He’d seen his brother give up his sexuality and his career dreams to accomplish whatever John Winchester would order him to be. 

 

Sam knew he was lucky. Having Dean taking over the company and standing up for him any time their dad would charge against Sam, the younger Winchester had the chance to be himself. He’d always known he didn’t like girls. Fortunately for Sam, John paid little attention to his upbringing, basically leaving it to Dean once everyone that had helped him at the beginning were gone. Dean would make sure Sam went to school, did his homework and left him alone to pick out his friends and interests. He wanted his little brother to be happy no matter what that entitled. 

 

When the male models’ magazine episode happened, Sam was old enough to understand what that meant. His interest in men had to be kept from his dad. This was confirmed a couple of months later when John had taken him to a carnival.

 

They were having a nice night full of sugary treats and fun. They were in line for the Horror House and Sam spotted two guys seated on a bench, eating corn dog, speaking and laughing, their closeness speaking volumes of an intimacy beyond friendship. He was daydreaming of a relationship like theirs for himself when they kissed and Sam could have died of joy. It was possible, being happy with another man was an option and he planned to take it. 

 

But the bubble broke all too soon. John had seen the couple kissing too and started making a spectacle of himself by yelling incoherent stuff at the couple, who were staring at him incredulously, finally deciding to leave to avoid confrontation when John spat at their faces that “You faggots should be arrested, how dare you making a show in front of my son?! I should call the police!”

 

So, yeah, Sam wouldn’t be coming out to John any time soon.

 

His decision made, he still felt bad for Dean, he tried to talk to him but his older brother had made up his mind to accept their dad’s imposition so ,finally, after a thousandth argument, he just let him be. 

 

Years went by and Sam had focused on his studies, collecting a few awards for his dedication and grades. From the outside, one might have thought that he was living under his brother’s shadow, but in reality -out of the two brothers- he was the one with freedom to live as he pleased. He knew all too well how shallow and miserable his brother’s life was, even if he masked it with a glow of glamour and wrapping his arms around women to show off.

 

Sam also started dating some girls from time to time, mainly to get his dad out of his back. Ever since the carnival and Dean’s magazine incidents, Sam, always bold and careless of John’s edicts, became a little concerned about his own decisions. Under no circumstances would he give up his own mind and body, he only decided to play smart. So, he dated girls for short periods of time, went out in unromantic dates, that could better be defined as buddies’ day out. He ended up being good friends with some of the girls who felt comfortable enough to talk to him about their new boyfriends and even asking for advice on certain… topics.

Jessica Moore had been Sam’s friend like forever. They’ve known each other for so long that everybody assumed that at a point they’d end up dating. Sam knew this and he imagined that if he had to pretend to date a woman, better do it with someone you already love, as a friend, 

 

One day they were walking home from school and Sam invited her to have an ice cream. 

 

“Penny for your thoughts, Winchester.” Jessica said as she took seat on a corner booth.

 

“What?” Sam asked, honestly confused. 

 

“There’s an idea going around in that big head of yours. Speak already, I’m not gonna bite.” she smirked.

 

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. What? Is this the first time I buy you an ice cream?” he met her incredulous look and he knew he had lost. “Fine. There’s something I want to tell you, something I’ve never told anyone.” he played with the spoon on his sundae and tsked, “You’re my best friend, Jess, and I have to tell someone or I’ll burst, I mean, Dean knows but it’s not the same.” Sam started to babble. 

 

“It’s okay, Sam, I know…” Jess said, leaning on the table to cover Sam’s hand with hers, comforting and reassuring.

 

“No you don’t, trust me.” Sam snorted, sure she’d be surprised when he finally confessed. He just hoped she wouldn’t walk out of him once she learned who he really was.

 

“You’re gay.” she simply said. Even tone, words thrown over the table as she leaned in once more to avoid anyone eavesdropping. Sam stared at her, eyes wide and open mouthed.

 

“Wha’?” he articulately said. 

 

Jess laughed, “What? Did I break you? Sam, I’ve known for years!” she cheerfully said while fetching a strawberry from the toppings on her ice cream.

 

“What?... How?” obviously Sam was taking his time to master regular speech again.

 

“Your body language, idiot. I got a gay cousin, remember? I read you like a an open book… a very gay book.” she joked, “And really, it’s okay, I was just waiting for you to come out.”

 

“Yeah, well, about that… I’m not really coming out, you know, to everybody?” he sheepishly added.

 

“Oh… but why? I don’t think anyone will judge, not anyone that matters to us, anyway.”

 

So Sam explained to her about his dad and his apparent homophobia, and Jess understood, bless her, and told him she’d always be there for him. That’s how Jessica Moore became Sam’s first pretended girlfriend. She was ever truth to her word and even when Jess fell in love for real with Brad and she ‘broke up’ with Sam, she kept visiting the Winchester’s home as Sam’s best friend.   
  


How his dad never suspected he was gay remained forever a mystery.

 

Sam went through High school making sure to keep his dad out of his back. He had a public life and he had to remind himself it was for the greater good. Then there was his hidden agenda. He had to keep it a secret because he didn’t want his dad to spoil his plans. 

 

Dean, on the other hand, knew all about it and was both proud of his baby brother’s determination but was also scared of their dad ruining Sam’s life as he had ruined his. 

 

Dean made sure Sam had his chance to make the life he wanted for himself, so, on top of introducing a couple of girls to his dad -mostly friends that already knew his predicament and decided to help him out- he had real dates with boys he liked and explored his sexuality without more worries than the usual for any other teenager. Sam got to be a regular teen, and that was all Dean’s doing.

 

-

 

Dean was happy with his life choices, or he convinced himself he was. After all it had been his decision to give in to his father’s constant psychological abuse and become a womanizer to please him. Later, when he took the reign of the family company, desperate to make it work to secure Sammy’s future, he just forgot about all his dreams and settled to be what his dad wanted. It was his destiny and he’d take it as long as his brother could be free to be whatever he wanted. He was gonna make sure Sammy made it. 

 

So, as promised, he covered for him. Dean would make the right questions at the dinner table, so Sam could construct his own happiness and still be part of the Winchester family… and keep their dad out of his back. 

 

John never suspected anything. 

Dean took Sam to buy his tux for his graduation party. He wanted to take him and his closest friends to celebrate at a nice restaurant in New York but Sam declined.

 

“Don’t be mad, Dean! It’s just that everybody’s gonna be there and I want to be part of it.”  he said while the taylor began to adjust the tux to make it fit the tall teenager. Dean couldn’t help to think that Sam had still a long way to grow and then he realized that he might even outgrowth his own older brother. The nerve of that moose of a kid. 

 

“That’s okay, Sammy.” he assured him and smirking he added, “So… who’s your date?” 

 

“Uh, I asked Jess to go with me and she said yes… but I guess once inside we’re just be part of the group.”

 

“Nice… that’s nice, Sammy. She’s a good friend.” Dean said, pensive.

 

It was a difficult time for the Winchester boys, John’s drinking problem had become worse than ever and he’d pick up fights for the silliest things. He’d probably demand prom photos and Sam’s better had something prepared on his phone to show him. Jess wasn’t dating anyone at the time, Dean knew that, and he also knew that she’d do anything for Sam. 

 

The tailor had almost finished working when Dean received a call from the office and had to run, Sam decided to join him. He couldn’t care less about the firm but Dean was doing a lot for him so he just wanted to show some support.

 

“I’ll be upstairs in a minute!” Sam said as he left his brother in front of his office building to grab a mocha for Lisa, Dean’s secretary. He liked her, she was a funny girl, even though she was so obviously in love with Dean that it was sad. He got himself some apple juice and sat at her desk to chat until Dean could send his employee on his way. 

 

Given all the yelling coming from Dean’s office, the employee’s way would probably be the highway to hell. Both Lisa and Sam jumped off their seats when Dean’s meetings room door opened to allow some bold old man storm out of the room leaving the office without even looking at them. He did not even wait for the elevator to arrive, he just went down the stairs. Considering they were on the 14th floor, Sam guessed the guy was not really happy.

 

“Lisa,” Dean called his assistant attention, “I’d need you to remove Mr. Adler’s name from the New Jersey project…” he turned towards his office but turned back, “as a matter of fact, call Human Resources and ask them to get Adler's check ready. He’s no longer part of the firm.”

 

Dean looked all distressed, unhappy and about to burst in flames. Lisa seemed reluctant to talk to him, “Anything I can do for you, boss?” she asked anyway.

 

“Bring me a coffee and see if you can get Ketch to take over Zechariah's position, starting right now.” Dean ordered in a very loud voice and as he sat on his chair, he looked at a shocked Lisa, still standing there, frozen in place, and then with a small sigh, he added, “I’m sorry, Lisa, I didn’t mean to yell at you… would you please check that? Thanks.” he lay his head on his hands and took a couple of deep breaths. When he looked back up, he saw his brother leaning back against the wall next to the door, looking at him in pity. “What?”

 

“Nothing,” Sam replied, moving ahead to sit opposite to Dean, “I was wondering…”

 

“What happened here is just business, nothing to worry about…” Dean assured.

 

“Oh, I don’t care about business.” Sam said, “Neither do you.”

 

“Sam, don’t start… this is the family business and is my responsibility. Besides, I like this line of work.”

 

“Neh, you don’t. You don’t care about the family business… neither do I, as a matter of fact. You want to work with photography and I want to be a doctor… you should stop listening to dad’s orders, he ruined the company, he should resolve it!” Sam told Dean, or rather yelled at him. “What I just saw? What I see now, your face, your expression, the tension on your shoulders… on your face? Dean, that tells me you hate this!”

 

“Really?” Dean argued, with disdain, “say I say the hell with this and quit…  how are we supposed to pay for your college? You think College education is cheap? And, yeah, I know all about your scholarship but you’re still gonna need money for food, clothes, even for a car. Without this company, we don’t have that kind of money.” he objected.

 

“Dee, I can work, I’m not a spoilt little boy, okay?” Sam affirmed, “You think I’m gonna be happy knowing you sacrificed your career dreams… not to speak of your  _ other  _ dreams, just to ease things for me?” he said as he went to close the office door.

 

“What other dreams, uh? Stop being cryptic and talk already!” Dean demanded as he got to the counter and took out a bottle of whiskey, sipping straight from the bottle.

 

“You know what other dreams, Dee, dad’s not here, we can actually talk about this.” the younger brother calmly said, taking the bottle out of Dean’s hands and putting it back in its place, “and I’d like to talk while you’re not intoxicated, if you don’t mind.”

 

“Sammy, you’re too young to understand. He was right and  _ that  _ was just a phase anyway, alright? There’s nothing else to talk about.” he said, his tone final.

 

“Right, you really want me to buy that, don’t you? So, let me get this.” Sam said, pacing the room, “what you’re saying is that I should do the same? I should keep on dating girls even when I like boys because it’s just a  _ phase _ ?”

 

“Oh, c’mon! It’s not like that! I can cover with dad for you, you can be whatever you want, bro, I’ll never think less of you.”

 

“But you’re gonna honor dad’s rules, uh?” Sam whispered, suddenly tired and already giving up. He knew a lost cause when he saw one, and his brother would always put his dad’s approval over his own needs.

 

They never talked about that argument in the office, Dean never invited him again to visit him at work and Sam never pushed Dean to give up on the job or on their dad. 

Sam’s finally left for College, he got undergrads in record time and got all his paperwork for med school ready. 

 

He went home for his big brother’s birthday and Dean almost had a stroke out of worry. Sam looked pale, tired as fuck and with little expectations to survive the career itself. Dean knew he’d made it, of course, his little brother’s brain was something to be studied by the science after his passing. Okay, that was probably an exaggeration, but to Dean, Sam was the most intelligent person he’d ever met. 

 

“Dean, I’m okay, really.” Sam argued for the tenth time since he got home. He was tired, of course he was, but how could it be different if he’d spend his days and nights studying? “Undergrad was easy, I gotta get ready now for med school and I’m reading some material already so…”

 

“You look like you’re about to pass out, Sammy, that’s not healthy.” Dean cut him off, trying to keep it quiet so not to wake his dad, who had fallen asleep in the couch after one or ten beers too many. Dean didn’t care, he actually preferred it, that way he could spend the day with his favorite person in all the world, “you’ve got time off now… you’re gonna go on a cruise.”

 

“I’m gonna do what now?” Sam asked, confused.

 

“I booked a cruise for you. Ten days, all fun no worries, Sammy.” he handled an envelope to Sam who looked at him puzzled.

 

“What? Why? I mean… it’s  _ your  _ birthday, and you got  _ me  _ a present?” Sam asked once they were on the way to the restaurant, just the two brothers.

 

“Well, you got me a nice tie, too, but yeah… someone in this family has to have a good time, uh? Put it this way, you’re going to dive into med school, just enjoy the cruise and then kiss the fun goodbye and go back to be a potus until you’re done with your studies.”

 

“But Dean…” Sam tried to argue.

 

“No buts, or yes butts but with double t. Just enjoy, okay?”

 

“Why don’t you come with me, then? You need time off too.” Sam offered once the waitress had left with their orders in her notebook. The place was nice, not a five stars but far more sophisticated than the diners they were used to.

 

“I wish I could but I can’t,” Dean started but interrupted himself to wait for the waitress to look at Sam’s ID, pour some wine in their cups and go away, “business is just starting to kick off so… look, just go and have fun, okay? You’ve got the rest of your life to study and work.”

 

That settled it. Sam thanked his brother. They had dinner, drank a little, laughed a lot and then they headed back home to check on their dad. 

Sam found out that he did need the distraction, after all. His brain was really beginning to fry, so some sun, and margaritas would do great for his sanity.

 

On the second day on the boat, Sam woke up early and decided to spend the morning by the pool. He swam for almost half an hour, working out his muscles, cheating on his time off by listing the muscles involved in swimming, the bones, in English and in Spanish, language he was trying to master to add value to his future resumé. 

 

He only stopped when his stomach reminded him to get some food in it, and Sam rapidly complied. He went to the complimentary breakfast table (thanks Dean for the luxury package) and his tray was soon full of salmon egg Benedict, fruit salad, coffee, orange juice and a corn muffin. Sam went to sit on a table by the shadow of an umbrella facing the springboard.

 

He was there, relaxing over his nice healthy breakfast, when someone stepped in, blocking the light from the sun. “Mind if I join you? I hate eating alone.” but Sam did not have time to decline or to actually say anything, because the guy was already sat next to him, too close, and grinning like the cat that had just caught the mouse. 

 

Sam grimaced at the so full of carbs breakfast, sugary enough to provoke a peak of diabetes on anyone, Sam was sure of it. He felt curious about the man but he wasn’t looking for any hookup here, he was there to relax before his classes began and needed no more distraction than some sun and swimming, well, probably some bowling and dancing at night wouldn’t hurt either. He imagined that a little talk with the guy was a good way of distracting himself. He didn’t know how to begin the conversation, though.

 

Turned out Sam did not have to make any efforts, the guy started talking after swallowing the first generous fork of chocolate pancake, strawberries, and what appeared to be icing on top. 

 

“Gabriel,” the man said, holding out his hand for Sam to shake. “What’s your name, gorgeous?” he asked once Sam had shaken his hand but didn’t offer his name in return.

 

“Oh, uh, Sam. Pleased to meet you…” he said, with an uncomfortable little smile, “I guess” he added in a very small voice. He took his time to asset this man, blunt and self confident.

 

The guy, Gabe, looked to be in his mid thirties, sandy hair, a security in his ways, and a spark in his eyes that called trouble, so leaning forward in his chair, Sam smiled a little wider, and asked, “So, Gabe… Business trip or attempt to mend your broken heart?” 

 

“Oh kid, you have no idea.” Gabe smirked, “I was hoping you could help with that… I’m glad I got the right vibes from you.”

 

From then on, they spent the whole time on the cruise together. Sam loved the fact that the man could make him laugh so much, he felt lighter and happier than he had in years. For some reason, Gabe reminded him of Aos, his first boyfriend. He was sweet, and smart, and perfect for Sam, he cared for him but wanted no compromise. That was exactly what Sam needed and he had always kept a good memory of his time with Aos. 

 

Sam and Gabriel had a great time together. They played at the casino, won some money, lost a lot more, every morning they’d swim for ten minutes together and then Gabe would sit on the edge of the pool watching Sam’s ass coming to the surface to disappear again, the muscles at his defined and toned back. Then they’d have breakfast, walk along the deck and chat about themselves. Sam was comfortable with how much they’d share of their careers and projects but never about their personal lives. That was alright, because no way was he prepared for more. Not that he was expecting to find a life lasting love at a cruise ship. Not at all. Only… 

 

They had had sex the night before. 

 

It had begun with them slightly drunk, or a lot, Sam can’t honestly remember. But the sex he did remember well. It had been awesome. Gabe was an experimented lover, made him feel things he had never felt before, made sweet sweet love to him, reading his needs and reactions like he had known him all his life. His touches, his mouth, all of him was delicious and Sam wanted him over and over again. Sunrise found them still entangled and in action. If you’d ask Sam the moment when it all had started he wouldn’t be able to tell. They had shared a first kiss on the dance floor, a first time for Sam, who was used and conditioned to hide his preferences from the world, and then it was all blurred. Desire, passion, need, was the language of their bodies and their hands its performer. 

 

The rest of the trip was glorious, they left Gabe’s cabin only to eat, and they did it because they’d once tried to order room service but ended up eating a cold diner because they got distracted. Their way back to the cabin, once they had eaten and had the opportunity of stretching their legs a bit, it was always a mess of touches and stolen kisses. Sam had never been public with his partners before, for obvious reasons, and discovering he really enjoyed public displays of affection made him both happy and bolder. He wouldn’t even take a look around before go and kiss the shorter man that was holding his hand or to pin him to the wall outside his cabin for a quick brush of groins. 

 

Since they had become physical, Gabe had tried to talk about their future. Sam, for the most part, was able to avoid diving into an argument about it. Sam did not want this fling to become something else. He was not comfortable with the idea, even when he was not opposed to it. He wanted to have a boyfriend, he wanted to feel he belonged to a team, grow up with someone and learn to share his life with him. That was always a dream that had Sam’s heart bursting with joy… until John’s face would come to cloud Sam’s mind like a sand storm to wipe out all his hopes. This time it wasn’t any different. 

 

Their last day on the cruise, they woke up early, had breakfast, had their luggage ready and went to take a walk. Gabe tried once more to convince Sam to continue their relationship once they were back home, and Sam once again deflected. 

 

When the time to disembark came, they went to their own cabins to pick up their stuff with the promise to meet at the gate. 

 

By the time Gabriel made it to their meeting point, Sam was long gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel hadn’t always been so strong and confident, his personality had been shaped by his own personal misery. From day one, his life had been anything but easy. 

 

He was born in the middle of Nowhere, Virginia, son of a texan orthodox pastor named Chuck Novak, who loved this God’s forsaken little town and believed in the old ways, and followed the Bible to the dot and beyond. He was convinced God was an old curmudgeon who lived in the clouds looking down at his creation with nothing but judgement in his eyes. 

 

Chuck taught his own children and every other member of his church that there were only good and bad actions, no grays, no excuse to sin or make mistakes. Virtue and repentance being the only path into Heaven, otherwise souls were to be condemned to a well deserved eternity of fire and torture in hell.

But young Chuck used to be a funny and approachable man. He had learnt from his father and his father before him, that ministry should be his priority, and when his father passed away his turn to rule the church came, and he did it with joy. Chuck was a young and idealistic pastor. Along with his wife, Tessa, he led a very well organized charity that helped the poor and the disadvantaged.  

For years he was the leading member of the community, respected by the members of his church and by the common folks. He’d try to convert them to save them from hell, and he mostly succeeded. Some old catholic families outright declined from joining Chuck’s church, though. 

Those were powerful families, they came from money and they kept making more and more. The Miltons and the Sunders were also important members of the community and did their part to keep the town moving and growing. 

Novaks, Sunders, and Miltons have been in different sides of the religious road for many generations. Novaks on one side, Sunders and Miltons across the line. They’ve always respected each other, and continued to cooperate for the benefit of the town until one day, Chuck’s vision of the town future changed for good. 

Chuck and his wife became parents at a very young age, Emily was born on a balm summer morning and even when Tessa was joyful, Chuck himself remained quiet and thoughtful at her bedside. Chuck considered that maybe God was punishing him for something, otherwise why sending him a daughter instead of a son? That was it, he must have done something wrong and, holding his first born in his arms, he began to rethink his decisions in life. If he’d done something to offend the Lord, for the Lord himself that he’d do anything to please him and therefore be blessed again.

If you’d ask the Catholic families, they’d say that Chuck became an obsessed bastard after his second daughter, Anael,  was born. If they’ve always been on different sides of the road, after that, they became practically enemies. Praying for a son and getting only daughters was taken by Chuck as a punishment from God for his light interpretation of His Word. Nobody could have known the struggle he went through, how his wife tried to comfort him, to bring hope to his troubled heart, and he did his best to not to change his ways of applying the word of God too much, the bitterness and fear of more punishment from the Creator himself was stronger. He started to gradually harden his sermons, talking to men and convincing them that educating their wives and daughters as equals would bring nothing but God’s wrath over them. The church community progressively began to show the change, women would only leave their homes to attend to church, daughters would be homeschooled and would have very little interaction with boys, and only at Sunday school. It was a rather fast change that was happily taken by half of the town’s folks. 

A few years went by and found Pastor Chuck father of four beautiful daughters. Emily, Anael, Eve and Templance were raised in the belief that their fate was to become good servant wives, just like their mother, quiet and obedient, observant of their husbands’ orders. They were expected to be the exact opposite of those girls whose parents allowed to attend college and even work outside home… sinners, all of them. Chuck would never understand those parents, allowing their children to give in to Lucifer’s temptations, leaving them to choose their own path in life. Careless. According to Chuck those parents, who wouldn’t lift a finger to protect their children from the corrupted modern world, they were just lazy people who had hell coming for them. That was his preach at the Temple and at home. 

Castiel was born on a Thursday and Chuck felt that God had finally blessed him, he had now a son to inherit his name, his property and his congregation. The day his son came to this world, Chuck Novak decided that God blessing him with a son, was the obvious result of his efforts to stick to the Holy Word, or his interpretation of it. One would have thought that after finally having his own personal miracle, he’d soften his preach but it was the opposite. His sermons became harsher than ever and he was proud of it. Castiel was raised by Chuck himself, since his mother had died a few days after the delivery, due to postpartum infections. Chuck had held his newborn while his wife simply bled away. 

His children, who would only interact with people at church and would only go to town to shop with their father, only knew their father’s way, his teaching was the only valid source of knowledge and would only believe in Chuck’s interpretation of the Scriptures. Chuck believed in physical punishment, so all his five children knew better than disobey.  

Castiel grew up under Chuck’s laws, always loyal and accepting his rules, again that was the only way he knew. Being his youngest and only son, Chuck kept him close, leaning on him to master the farm and teach him his way around the church and guide the sinners to get back to the holy path. He taught him to stay away from the temptation of the flesh, to devote himself to the homestead and the congregation until it was time to marry a nice christian girl and then take the leadership of the church. 

Being the church the only place Castiel was allowed to interact with people in, he loved being there, singing gospels in the chorus and talking about the Lord in the meetings with people his age after the Sunday service. He used to enjoy Sundays, he would forget about the farm and the physical work, lifting heavy sacks of seeds and doing most of the harder work, Chuck had started to grow old, and every year it was harder for him to do more than give instructions. He was even considering hiring someone to help around. 

Chuck had started to talk to his son about his duty as a man, he was already fifteen and ready to start courting to marry. His father had decided he’d marry Jo Harvelle, daughter of the owner of the town’s only general store. Castiel didn’t mind, he didn’t feel any attraction to the blonde girl, but again, he didn’t feel any attraction to any girl, whatsoever. Jo seemed a nice girl, and Castiel used to have long conversations about the Lord in their Sunday meetings but he did no enjoy it very much, he rather be talking with the guys at the back, They’d talk about the Scriptures too, but he’d feel more comfortable with their ways, they’d bump their shoulders and had little pretended fights, having physical contact with another guys was somehow enjoyable, and Castiel couldn’t understand it. Sometimes, some of the catholic guys from the church across the central square would join them and would debate their respective ways of seeing the religion. Chuck approved that, he felt that his son, with his heated defense of his ministry, was in his way to start his own. 

Once again, Chuck felt blessed.

The devil liked to play dirty, though, and the Novaks, for all their worshiping, were nowhere safe. Men didn’t get kicked out from Eden on purpose, the apple is always so sweet that the temptation is almost impossible to avoid. A few weeks after turning fifteen, Castiel’s life changed forever.

**

Thursday’s always been Castiel’s favorite day of the week. When Castiel was a toddler, long after dinner was over and his sisters were doing the dishes, sewing and ironing, Chuck would sit him on his lap, somewhere close to the fire and he’d tell him stories. He’d tell him about him being named after the Angel of Thursdays, which was rather accurate, given he was born on that day of the week. His father would also educate him on the Bible and he’d give his only son his first lessons on the Lord’s work. From his most tender years, Castiel was educated to become the head of the Church. 

So this Thursday, Castiel walked alone towards the store to buy groceries because Chuck had decided that his son was old enough to do so.

Groceries list in hand, Castiel entered the store, Mrs. Harvelle saw him and went straight to him, as usual she’d try to make him interested in her daughter, Jo, and, like every time, she’d be disappointed in his little interest in the girl. It’s not that Castiel was trying to be rude, he just didn’t get it, he didn’t seem to understand Mrs, Harvelle’s innuendos. Jo was glad, Castiel wasn’t her type, she liked other kind of boys, leather jacket and a mean attitude were her things. Castiel would politely smile at the women, ask if he’d be seeing them at church on Sunday and then move on grocery shopping. He was focusing on the list, so he paid no attention to his surroundings. 

“Hey, there, big boy.” came a voice on his left. Castiel lifted his eyes from the stakes to land on a strange beautiful boy, sunkissed, powerful arms, and hair so white he could write poems to. He seemed too young for such a white hair but Cas couldn’t tell, because he was hypnotized by the kid’s eyes, eyes that seemed to be sucking all his will. “Like what you see, blue eyes?” the teen teased, “You don’t get nice boys here, uh?” he smiled at Castiel, and Castiel felt like burning inside. He didn’t understand what was going on with him, it was a cool autumn day and he felt like a fire building up inside his chest, he couldn’t speak, damn, he couldn’t even think. “Oh. Oh, I get it… you’ve never seen a real man before, have you?” the stranger took a few steps closer and Castiel couldn’t find the strength to back up, “Name’s Luke and you are…”

“C… Castiel Novak” he stammered, throat dry and mind in a blur confusion. It wasn’t the guy’s advance that confused him, it was his own body reacting to the advance, his heart pounding, his groin pulsing. He knew it was a sin, he knew it was the devil tempting him, trying to make him fall, trying to bring shame and pain to his family. And yet Castiel couldn’t move, couldn’t break the spell. His mind was doing an effort to tell his limbs to move, his feet to step back, his arms to hold up in front of his chest to stop Luke’s advances. Castiel knew he should move, he should go away and back to his chores, back away from the sinful force that the guy seemed to emanate. 

It wasn’t Luke’s obviously trained body or his clothes what attracted him, it was something else, something impalpable, something so powerful that had Castiel’s mind rolling, both terrified and happy. His legs felt like jello as Luke kept closing his distance. Mere couple of centimeters was separating them now, and Castiel felt his heart trying to burst out of his chest. His vision blurred, the deafening noise of his pulse on his ears, he saw Luke’s right hand lift and cradle his cheek and he felt like fainting, a few seconds after he felt another hand grabbing his behind and Castiel could have died, furious and embarrassed to feel so comfortable with the proximity, with the touch… and yet he remained still.

Luke leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, I know you like it…” and shockingly enough, he kissed him. 

Eyes wide shut, two milliseconds later, Castiel kissed him back. 

He forgot he was in the frozen isle of the store, he forgot he was supposed to be the next pastor, _ he forgot it was a sin _ . He just felt the need to get the most of it. He had never kissed anyone before, hell, he had never wanted to, but now he couldn’t have enough. He hungrily dove in for more kisses, for touches, for more body heat pressed against his. He opened his eyes for a split second and a flash blinded him. Suddenly he felt the heat of Luke’s body disappearing, as the arms holding him released him, he fell on the floor. Dumbfounded, he stared up at Luke questioningly. 

Castiel’s was a mess of confusion at seeing Luke elbowing Mark Sunders, the catholic kid who used to join him in Religious discussion every Sunday after service of their respective Churches. Laughing their asses off, they ran away when Mrs. Harvelle started shouting at them to leave him alone. She helped Castiel up from the floor and he saw her lips moving, obviously asking questions, but Castiel couldn’t hear a thing from the maddening thum thum thum of his heart rumbling in his ears. 

They took a picture. They took a picture of Castiel kissing, not only kissing but kissing a boy… kissing a boy meant a one way ticket to hell, straight into the deepest burning pit. Or maybe not, maybe if he prayed for forgiveness, for help, then maybe God could put some mercy in Mark’s heart to keep the photos hidden, maybe if nobody knew he’d be safe.

He went home, sad and worried, tears on the verge of spilling. He saw his father from afar and his feet threatened to stop walking, how could he explain what had happened? There was no way in heaven or hell that Pastor Novak would understand it, let alone forgive. He needed to tell him that he was taken by surprise and couldn’t react out of shock, he didn’t have to know the truth. 

Chuck saw him walking very slowly, almost dragging his feet, no grocery bags, only his son coming back home. 

“Gonna pick up the groceries tomorrow, son?” 

“Yes, father. I figured we could use the truck to come back faster and work with the children in church.” Castiel didn’t confess and Chuck didn’t ask anything else, they went in and the pastor felt pride burst in his heart when his son excused himself from dinner because he needed to pray. And Castiel prayed all night, he prayed for forgiveness, he prayed for help, he asked the Lord to erase the previous day. 

Morning came all too soon and Castiel forced himself to get up and start his day. His father was an old man and Eve and Templace, both already promised in matrimony, were not allowed to go to town. Castiel had to be the one driving his father. 

They drove their old truck that had seen better days, parked behind the store and walked to the main entrance. Chuck greeted and smiled to everyone who stopped their walk to give them a curious look, and the young man felt that the world was closing around him. 

Small town gossip travels fast, no matter how pious or good people they are. Pictures had been taken and someone, most probably the same Mark or one of his friends, the same friends that used to talk with Castiel on Sundays, had shown them around. That was the only explanation to the disgust in the faces of the people. Of course they’d blame it on him, they didn’t know Luke, they didn’t even care about him. Why focusing on the outsider if they could bully the perfect son of that severe Pastor. Some may call Karma, others, the more religious ones would scream sin of vainglory. 

Castiel left Chuck at the front desk of the store talking to Ellen Harvelle, who gave him a weird and hard look before turning to his father and start talking to him in comforting tone. Castiel knew what was going on, he just refused to let it win until it blew in his face, rather literally. He heard people coming in and murmur around him growing. He heard words of hate, spoken through clenched teeth, growing in volume as minutes passed. The scandal was such that Chuck startled when some of the town folks started confronting him, he didn’t understand what they were saying, what they meant by calling his son a perv.

“You did a great job, old man! So you not only abused your daughters but also your son?” A young man spat at his face, holding his young daughter close, as if protecting her.

“What?” Chuck asked confused, as more people gathered around him. He turned to face his son that was trying to shelter him from the customers.

“Hey, boy…” An old lady screamed from the back, “If you’ve touched my son, I’m gonna…” but she couldn’t finish. A gunshot sounded behind the counter and Ellen threatened everyone to leave. 

Of course people left, they knew Ellen full well and what she was capable of. But they didn’t go too far, they waited on the street where more people joined the mob. They screamed at him, calling him names and threatening to stone him, Bible style. Chuck was a mask of confusion, standing numbly next to his only son, watching the town folks throwing rocks and profanities. Some of them were even shouting at Chuck himself, calling him a fake, blaming him of allowing his son to abuse the children he was supposed to teach. 

They made it to the truck, it took Castiel almost a minute to start the engine because his hands were shaking badly, his father was suspiciously quiet, the silence more evident once they’d left the town behind. Castiel sobbed all his way home, and Chuck… he only looked out of the window, obviously brewing his righteous anger. He had tried so hard to educate his family under the rules of God and yet the devil found his way into his house and his church. 

Chuck felt his whole life burned down to ashes because of his son’s sins, he knew the words the people had shouted, he knew what kind of sin that was. He also knew he had to clean his house and church of this shame.

Templance and Eve were still living in the house and tried hard to help their baby brother when, once inside, their father took his belt off and started to slowly walk towards him. Castiel wouldn’t stop crying, explaining between hiccups that it had all been a setup, that he wasn’t what the people were accusing him. Chuck didn’t look at him, not even once, “You, women, stop crying and go back to the kitchen and you better do your chores as good christians” he ordered his daughters, “or you’ll get the same treatment as this… this blasphemous...”, he finished with disgust. 

“As per you,” he clenched his jaw, “Belzebu,” he chewed the word as he landed the belt over Castiel’s back, unable to call his son by his name, name that he had chosen, feeling blessed, looking down at him in his cradle barely an hour after his birth, “you let the devil take the best of you…” another belt mark was left on his arm, “you leave now, you will leave today and never come back” another hit, “… my house and church have no place for sodomites. You are a disgrace to my name and faith.”  he continued to land his belt all over Castiel, who could only cry and accept his punishment wishing it was all a bad dream and that he had still time to change it all. Chuck didn’t allow him to talk, anyway, his back and arms and pretty much all his body hurt due to the rage of his father’s blind beating.

Only when Chuck saw blood splattered on the floor, he did stop. He couldn’t feel his arm, had difficulty breathing and his blood pressure should be over the roof because his vision was blurred. “I’ll go to the shed,” he said, “you two get dinner ready in time, and you…” he spat on the floor, right in front of Castiel, “you better be gone by the time I come back, because for the Lord I’ll stone you myself.” breathing hard and dragging his feet, defeated, he went out without even slamming the door. Those were the last words Castiel ever heard from his father.

Castiel’s sisters went to him immediately, they did their best to calm him down, assuring him that they didn’t care what people say or what their father ordered them, they would always be there for him. They helped him sit on a chair to clean his wounds, helping him to change into clean clothes and to put as many clothes as they could in an old bag, one of them even gave him some money she had managed to sneak, so he’d have something to start his life away from home. They didn’t say goodbye, but see you soon.

He was passing by Bobby’s farm when the old man, his father’s friend, called out for him. Castiel explained the situation as well as he could, not quite fully understanding it himself, Bobby nodded, gave him more money and his phone number in a piece of paper that he folded and hid in his battered old wallet. Bobby tried to convince him to stay with him but Castiel knew it wasn’t a good idea. He found himself surrounded by strong arms in a hug that set his back on fire but that was comfort and love all the same. Exactly what Castiel needed. 

Castiel walked away from the place he was born and grew up in, away from the only family he ever had. His head was a mess of confusion and regrets. 

The weather had decided to match his mood so it started to pour rain, it was sunny when he started to walk but suddenly it went all grey and water started to fall. It soaked his skin through the fabric of the cheap labor shirt and the bandages his sisters lovely had covered his wounds with. About an hour after he had given his first step towards the rest of his life, he was somewhere near the main road where he had planned to take the bus, convinced nobody in the surroundings would give him a lift. He was the town pariah, after all. From the side of the road, under a little roof, right where the tree line started, there was a man sitting on an old bench, Castiel had seen him in town a few times but never in church. He had heard stories about him so he had never gotten any close, not even to evangelize him. “Come over here, son,” the man called him, “I’m not gonna bite you,” he joked, “just get out of the rain for a moment, we should talk.” 

Castiel thought for a second, then decided he could do with a little less rain for a while so he went and sat next to him but didn’t say a word. 

“I’m Michael… You okay, boy?” the stranger started, Castiel gave him a blank look, not in the mood to reveal himself to a stranger. Michael understood him. Michael knew. “I was once like you, you know, and someone did something for me that probably saved my life… it’s my turn to do it for someone else.” he reached out, grabbing the hand of a very frightened Castiel and putting three hundred dollars in his palm, closing Castiel’s stiff fingers over the bills for him. The boy looked at his hand holding the money and then to Michael. 

“Why are you doing this?” Castiel asked, confused and wary.

“You’re cautious, that’s good. I was once your age and was in your same predicament. I too like men and I also had to run away to save my life. Someone once told me there was a place for me out there in the real world, and it took me a while but, eventually, I got there.” He recalled. “I know your father. It’s a shame he can’t find in himself the love and forgiveness his God preaches.” Castiel remained silent, not knowing what to say, what to think of it all.

They stayed under the roof for as long as the rain took to stop. They didn’t speak much after that. Castiel had never been so far from town, not alone, anyway, and his aching heart was terrified. They got up to take their own paths but before they said goodbye, Castiel found the courage to ask him a question, one that would define his future. 

“May I ask you a question, Michael?” the older man nodded, “Was it worth it? Looking for your own future, finding yourself, as you put it, was it worth it? I just lost my family and everything that I knew… and I’m not even sure of where to go…” Castiel felt his eyes prickle with tears both of pain for the wounds on his back, and embarrassment. 

“You’re still in shock… you’ll find your way, I promise. And Yes, the answer is yes. It was worth every second of it. I found the love of my life, we had the best twenty years any couple could have. I lost him a few years ago but the memories of us together are my most precious possessions.”  Castiel’s heart felt the love in the words, “I’m sure one day you’ll find it too.”

Castiel shook Michael’s hand, and parted with the promise to look up and face the world with the resolution to be himself. As he walked towards the bus stop, he wondered if that was possible. 

**

The bus sped through rural Virginia, the farther he got from his home town, the less his back hurt, until it became a dull throb, that kind of sensation you just forget with time, present but in the back of your mind. 

He didn’t got off the bus until it reached its final stop, a big city, as different from his old town as it’d get. Castiel went to the public bathroom to change his shirt and the bandages, but turned out the bleeding had stopped. He got a clean shirt on and went out to check the surroundings. 

He’d be lying if he’d said he wasn’t scared, he was only fifteen and had never been in a big city, and by himself, no less. He had no idea of where to find a place to sleep and all the street lights and the cars made him dizzy and he constantly felt like crying, he unfolded the piece of paper with Bobby’s phone number, looked at it for a minute, and put it back in his wallet. He didn't call, not even attempted to… he had nothing good to tell him anyway.

He was all alone. 

**

Through the first weeks in a big city, Castiel had to learn how to behave, who to trust and who to avoid, and he had to learn it fast. Some junkie at the YMCA tried to steal his money, and Castiel surprised himself with a punch to the face that got him spelled from the shelter but also made him realise two things. First, he had to be very careful as per to who he’d put his trust in, and second, all the hard work at the farm did pay, he felt strong.

** 

Three years passed and Castiel became a strong, self confident young man. He never sent even a thought towards church in general or his father. He put his focus in finding himself. He met people that helped him find jobs, introduced him to a variety of friends that he felt comfortable with. It was refreshing. 

In time he started going to parties, drinking and, well, all the rest. A few months after settling in a small crowded apartment he shared with four other guys, he lost his innocence. Old pure God fearing Castiel was forever gone. 

But he got tired of the city, he had met enough people there, he wanted to expand his world, after a few years in the same city he began to feel like trapped and he needed his freedom. He needed to feel like he belonged to nowhere, he needed the confirmation that he could move at his leisure, and not be ruled by his old man.

He wasn’t that kid anymore.

So he packed his little belongings, kissed his friends goodbye and became a seasonal temp. He spent his nights travelling and his days working odd jobs. He’d walk dogs, do gardening, and he even babysat for a couple of months. Anything but farm work. From small town to small town, then move to a bigger one, that was Castiel’s life. A bit of this, a bit of that. Never compromising much with anything or anyone. He had become a free spirit and that’s how he wanted to stay. Castiel was sure of only one thing and one thing only, he was his own responsibility, he wanted to belong to and with no one, he had mended his own wounds on his back and on his soul and he was not gonna let anyone come close enough to hurt him again. Those scars had been inflicted by the one person that was supposed to be his one and only protector, the person that gave him the most precious gift, life. If the one that was supposed to protect you and love you unconditionally, betrayed you, what could you expect from the rest of the world? No, Castiel wouldn’t lower his defenses ever again, he was on his own and he was alright.

The marks on his back kept pulling him down though, every lover he had, every person that had seen him topless, had asked him about them and everything would come back to him, every time. But one night at his lover’s room he asked him if he had ever thought of getting a tattoo on his back and that’s how he ended up with a monumental set of wings that covered his whole back and part of his arms. It was an amazing work and Castiel had never been so happy. It may not have made him forget his past, but it was a good way to leave it behind. His skin had been transformed from painful reminders into beauty marks, he only hoped his spirit would catch up with the change. 

And it did. He was enough, he was beautiful, no one would ever tell him he wasn’t. He was worthy. Nobody but himself could decide who he had to love, who he had to share his nights with. 

Castiel felt free, not only he could go wherever he wanted but he also could go as far from his father’s pretentiousness as he’d ever been. Freedom came with a price, though, he forgot about his college plans or even finishing high school, but this was America and it was a matter of time until Castiel landed in NYC, if he wanted to get rich in the blink of an eye, this was where it’d happen. 

Inias, his last boyfriend, had a sister living in the city and he got her to accept Castiel as her roomie so Castiel could take his time to get on his feet, get a job and a place of his own. For a while, it worked as expected, until a few months later Castiel moved out and his life took the wrong direction. 

He was renting a small apartment in a dark old building, but he was happy. Castiel was a free spirit, never looking back and never taking anybody’s criticism. Almost two years had gone by, some bad decisions were made, some friends came along and stayed only for the alcohol, the drugs, and the party, some good friends went away because of the same things. 

But then the 2008 America financial crisis happened and it hit Castiel pretty bad. He lost his job, the bank started to take his things and he lost everything, his stuff, his apartment, his fake friends. He was alone, broke and hopeless. 

Only Castiel wasn’t a kid anymore. The sad, broken, little boy from Nowhere, Virginia was long gone and he was strong enough to come out of his personal mess on his own. In his mind it was either flying over the horizon or burning in the deepest circle of hell. 

Castiel spent months looking for a job, any job that would keep him fed and under a roof, but he found nothing. His friends were just as broke, so producing was a priority. One night he was walking the streets, trying to think, to come up with an idea that would keep him afloat, when a sign called his attention, “Employee wanted”. Castiel took a look at the building, it was a club, but it didn’t say much more than its name in neon lights. “Heaven”

Castiel inhaled deeply and entered the place, a tall big dark man cut his path.

“Invitation?” he barked.

“Invi… no, no, I’m here for the job.” Castiel answered nervously, “Maybe I should come back in the morning? I’m not sure…” he trailed off while he tried to take a peek behind the massive body in front of him. 

“No, no need. This is a club, it’s gonna be closed in the morning.” the guy explained, “Ernie!” he yelled at the man behind the ticket booth window, “He wants the job!” he pointed at Castiel. “Go to him, he’s gonna help you.”

“Thanks,” Castiel nodded, and walked over to Ernie. “Hello.” he said through the window hole. 

The guy behind the glass didn’t flinch, he looked bored and tired, he gave him a card and told him to go inside and ask for Miss Missouri. Once inside, Castiel felt confused, it wasn’t his first time in a club, but this one? He could see only men, and the room was almost totally dark. A hand patted his back. 

“You’re here for the job?”, a blonde girl in a suit and a tie asked in a loud voice over the music. Castiel nodded and she guided him to a little room behind the main counter. 

“Missouri? This gentleman’s here for the job.” she informed through the door, barely opened.

“Let’im in, girl!” he heard the woman reply, it was a thin voice but didn’t lack authority. “Please, young man, have a seat.” she showed him a chair in front of her desk and Castiel sat.

“Thank you, Ma’am. I saw your sign outside. I’m interested.” 

“I see, you’re interested in the position even when you don’t have the slightest idea of what the job entitles. Am I right?” she amusedly asked. 

“Yeah, well.. I mean, I need a job and I learn fast so…”

She nodded, pensive. “This job will require you showing your body, please take your clothes off.” she seriously said, and waited for him to comply, usually at this point candidates would leave, Castiel taking a moment to consider it, was a good sign. She made an approving sound when he finally did it, and decided to hire him as soon as she saw his wings.  “Uh huh… can you dance, boy?”

“Can I dance? I… I don’t understand…” dressing up again, Castiel tilted his head and squint his eyes, in a tic that has been with him since he was a child. 

“You know what kind of club I run, here?” she asked waiting for an answer that came in the form of a shake of the head, “Well, some men like to come here, relax, have a little fun with other men… everything under the most strict secret. Here they’ll find booze, men dancing on stage, playrooms… anything they might need or want. We don’t ask questions, they pay our prices without complain.” Missouri took a moment to study Castiel’s expression, to see if he was horrified or interested in the service he’d be providing. What she saw must have been good, because she continued, “ This job I’m offering you is dancing for these men. All you have to do is to put up a show for them, dance to the music, seduce them in a way, make them feel wanted, desired. These men are mostly family men, this is their most precious secret.” she got up and walked around the desk until she was in front of Castiel. She was a tiny lovely old lady, and Castiel found her adorable. “So what you say, boy? The pay is good, and they are great tippers.” Adorable confident businesswoman.

Castiel thought for a moment, “You mentioned playrooms. Do I have to service there too?” 

“No if you don’t want to. Most of our dancers do, it’s a lot of money but you might want to start slow, just dance for a while and see what else you feel comfortable doing, maybe private dances…?” she shrugged. The decision and the reach of his duty was his and only his. 

Castiel smiled wide and Missouri knew she had found her new dancing boy. What she didn’t know was that he was gonna become a legend and make her richer than she had ever dreamt.

**

As promised, Castiel learnt fast, he liked to watch his buddies’ performances to get moves for his own show that he’d later polish with his coach. He had thought he’d suck at dancing on stage but people seemed to loved him and that encouraged him to pursue perfection.  

His first performances were simple, they merely consisted of him swinging his hips and walking the stage. Men would look at him and continue talking, paying not much attention until his shirt would hit the floor. Castiel’s wings’d take all the attention, you could cut the silence that spread through the tables. Cas, his new professional name, noticed that and used it for his benefit. Word spread and men that used to only attend the club on weekends and special occasions, began to come regularly. From Tuesday to Sunday  _ Heaven  _ was packed. 

It didn’t take long for Cas to become the star of the show. He was making more money out of tips than from his salary. Missouri was really happy with him, men would come during weekdays, leaving their wives and children just to get a glimpse of that beautiful back and ass. A few months into his new career, Cas started getting private clients. He’d go at the back of the club, and perform a dance for someone who’d pay enough money to get groceries for a week. 

His shows started to get better and better, more classy and profound in its meaning. Once Cas got a new place to live and was no longer homeless, he gave real thought to every routine. Since his wings were his most desired attributes, his routines had almost always biblical connotation. Cas was sure most of his clients didn’t get the religious aspects of the show but he couldn’t care less, he’d walk up the stairs and the loud music would send shivers down his spine and the rest would come naturally. Tonight’s show was his favorite, he’d tell the story of David and Jonathan. Cas put so much of himself in it, so much sentiment that more than a tear was shed in the audience. His private dances had sold out too and Castiel ended up the night tired but with a sense of completion. 

**

One evening Missouri called him to her office. 

“Cas, you remember the night I hired you, I told you about the back rooms, right?” 

“Of course, Missouri, that’s where I give the private dances.” Cas said, confused.

“Yeah, boy. There are some gentlemen that want something more than lap dances… if you know what I mean…” she waited for the idea to sink and then continued, “I’m not forcing you by any means, but if you ever feel comfortable with a man and want to make a more exhaustive use of the rooms, you just have to give Uriel a heads up and he’ll charge a special fee, you just think of the amount you want for the service, we’ll do the rest.” 

Cas sat there, thinking, and Missouri let him think. It was a very important step in his career, after all. “You mind if I think about it for a couple of days? I don’t want to rush any decision.” Cas felt like a businessman, so far from the broke guy that one night came into this club begging for a job. 

And Cas thought about it. He sat at home with three papers in front of him, one with a list of things he needed, another one of things he wanted, and another one with the numbers of the bank account that was sitting there, almost empty for about a year now. The decision wasn’t hard. He wasn’t a virgin, hadn’t been in years now, and he had had sex with strangers in the past too… he was positive he could do it, mostly. So he accepted Missouri’s offer but only on Fridays and Saturdays, the rest of the days he’d continue to perform his famous lap dances. 

Money started to flow in waves of several hundreds a day, over a thousand in special nights and Cas’ life was never the same. Money and fame weren’t free, though, anyone with enough money could have his body but never his mind or soul. Castiel had never been in love, he had never experienced the feeling of someone sharing a moment of a sentiment so pure that felt glorious. He could only remember that first kiss, a thousand years ago, in a God’s forgotten place, that had given him the illusion of love, only to shatter it under the weight of deception. Years had gone by, and yet he still couldn’t overcome the pain in his heart when he remembered that day. So yes, he felt like something was missing, but letting those nameless men at the bar first, and then online, use his body was more honest that any illusion of potential love he might had found over time. His heart was broken beyond repair anyway. 

He was convinced of that, there was a lifestyle he wanted to keep and after the 2008 crisis he became very careful with his money, making sure to have a retirement plan and a place in his name that nobody could take away from him. Not again.

Love didn’t exist, sex was only a business transaction.

But then one night, Dean Winchester entered Cas’ site and turned his world around. It was the third client of the night and Cas was rather tired and sore, he wanted to get fucked by the guy and go home. Only he knew the name and after a little googling, he began to think of a potential regular client right there, someone with money that could not only pay his fee but also be his sugar daddy. He wasn’t expecting to see those stupidly green eyes, those lips oh so kissable, or that body to cry for. He wasn’t expecting the electricity in the air, the force pulling them together, the sparks at the minimum touch.

He knocked on the door playing his regular cocky confident sex worker, but inside… inside he was dying of lust and desire, his heart pumping as in the middle of a race and a need to kiss right fucking now that he had never felt. 

For the first time in years, Castiel started to believe in God again. 

**

Castiel was the youngest of five, the only male and the one in charge of everything, despite his age. His sisters had always helped him, secretly hoping to escape their father’s rules. They learnt about the modern world from their neighbour Bobby, and Ellen and her daughter Jo, they knew about cell phones, TV and things like that. They’d read magazines hidden behind the barn when their father was at Church, where he’d preach to the small congregation that remained faithful to their pastor after what had happened with Castiel, or visiting the sick. Templance, Castiel’s elder, used to dream of traveling around the world, get to know all those places she read on the magazines and wear pretty clothes like the girls on those bright pages. She was so proud of Castiel being strong enough to leave, she wished she was just as brave.

When Castiel had made enough money from the odd jobs he did on the road, moved to New York and was already working at the club, he bought a cell phone, dialed Bobby’s number and together, they made a plan to communicate with his sisters, he sent money via Western Union and asked him to buy a phone for them. 

One day Castiel found the strength to call. He could only picture the wonder in Templance’s face at her baby brother’s name on the screen of the old phone that she kept hidden in her undergarments drawer. Bobby had instructed her to start it only on the last Thursday of each month, when her father would be too busy attending the few cows they still had. 

Whispering and looking out of the window, half hidden behind the curtains of her bedroom just in case her father would come back to the house earlier, she answered the call. 

“Little brother? Is that really you?” she asked, shy, feeling the weight of the old phone alien in her hand.

Castiel let out a soft tender laugh, she returned it, relaxing into the conversation. It had been a few years since they last spoke, but the love was still there. She asked him about his life, whether he was happy, if he had found love. He wouldn’t find it in himself to tell the truth, Castiel felt the need to shield her from the cold darkness of the real world so he made up a story for her, a tale full of happiness and bright anecdotes of himself growing up in a big city surrounded by friends and love. Castiel didn’t like lying to his sister, but the truth was something for later, something to break once she was out of their father’s control.

After that, they spoke regularly on the last Thursday of every month for a year, they’d talk for hours and laugh like they used to do when Castiel was a toddler under her care. Templance should have known that her face would betray her, she felt she could float of joy when it was the day Castiel would call, she was so happy she became a little reckless. The day Castiel was supposed to call, she’d do her house chores earlier, getting ready for a couple of hours of doing nothing but sit and talk and listen. She left her bedroom door a bit cracked, barely an inch but enough for Chuck to peer into, eyes landing immediately on the cord coming from the wall. He entered, slowly opening the door to avoid the cracking noises or the old hinges. He followed the cord from the wall to the top drawer, Chuck took the phone that was being charged and examined it, he knew what it was, he’d seen it in the hands of young sinners. Worse, his daughters knew it was a forbidden object, created only to tempt the good christians. He had to play smart and wait to see which one of the women was the guilty one, he’d make sure to punish her properly. 

In the afternoon, when he was supposed to be at the barn, he sneaked in through the back door and waited. He got to the second floor and opened the girls’ bedroom door charging towards his daughter, Templance was holding the ringing phone, always Templance… he grabbed the phone out of her hand and when he saw the name on the screen he felt rage blinding him and with a scream he slammed the phone against the wall, almost regretting it when he saw blood on his daughter’s forehead, a piece of hard plastic had shattered and hit her. 

Templance ran away from the house, she ran as fast as she could covering her ears to avoid hearing Chuck’s words of hate towards her little brother, she refused to hear her father call him a vile servant of the devil, calling him a sodomite. She knocked on Bobby’s door and he comforted her the best he could. He was no longer Chuck’s friend, he couldn’t condon the way the pastor treated his children, but he couldn’t do much more than give them shelter when needed without calling the police to avoid making everything worse for them, or so he thought. Templance returned home once she thought her father had calmed down, and also because she knew her sister would be home at any minute from church where she read the Bible to the elders, and didn’t want their father to take it on her too. Bobby followed her without actually entering the pastor’s house and when the screaming began, when he heard Templance crying incrontrobably, he called the police.  

The officer didn’t do much, besides asking Chuck to please take it easy and to the girls to obey their father. The pastor shook the officer’s hand at the door with the promise to talk everything out with his daughters, “Thank you, Hank, sorry you had to come up here for this. I’ll see you in Church. Bless you, son.” he said, closing the door and taking a deep breath before facing his daughters again. “You’ll never speak to that devil again.” he ordered, and then he went to bed. 

Bobby went back home, shoulders feeling the burden of a problem that wasn’t his. His wife had died before they could have any offspring, but he had always loved the Novak children like his own. Bobby drank himself to sleep that night, he felt such pain that couldn’t think straight. When he woke up, almost at midnight, he saw his phone had several missed calls from Castiel. He dialed and made a face at the loud music coming from the speaker.

“Castiel? Hello?” 

“Bobby!! What happened at home? Is Templance alright?” he worriedly asked, voice trembling as he obviously moved away from the music, muting it by closing a door. “Bobby? Are you there?”

“Yes, yes, son, yes. Templance’s good, but I think your father’s not. He became violent and abusive, more than before…” Bobby trailed off, “I think… I think you should take the girls away from him.”

“I’ll arrange something. Bobby, I’m gonna call you in the morning with a plan, okay?” 

“Hurry, son. Good night.”

**

In his years travelling through the USA, he landed in Miami for a season. He found it too bright, with all the sun and the sand. But he also found some cool people there that he had stayed in contact with. Monica was one of them. She was like a cool young aunt that would hire him to mow the grass and trim the trees, clean the pool and stuff like that. She felt touched by his life story and they became good friends. 

With Monica in mind, Castiel call it a night at the club and went home. He dialed her number knowing full well she’d be awake, most probably partying. He told her all about his sisters and that he needed a place for them to start fresh, someone that would teach them the ways of the real modern world so they’d be safe. She agreed immediately, she’d get a room ready for them in no time. Castiel only had to call her to let her know the time of their arrival, she’d take care of the rest. 

**

Bobby gave the Novak women some money he had saved to fix his old truck, it was worth it. Rachel, an old friend of Bobby’s, took them to the airport, where they found tickets ready for the three of them, Castiel had trusted the safety of his sisters to Bobby’s friend. The Novak women had never travelled beyond the limits of their home town and felt out of place, it took them a while to walk confidently through the crowd. The flight was amusing, because they were completely amazed at everything, obviously enjoying themselves. Not even once had them looked behind, their father would not be missed. Years of verbal and physical abuse had seen to that. They got to Miami and were received by Monica, as promised. She greeted them like a long lost friend. In their first week, she took them to get new clothes, a day of spa, then they had their hair and nails done, and were taken for a city tour. They started working in the house, helping around to earn some money, went to night school and eventually they found a nice juice stand on the beach to exploit and Monica decided to finance it for them. 

In time, Castiel was able to take vacation time and visit his sisters in Miami. The reunion was heartbreaking, they cried, and laugh, and cried again. Castiel didn’t come clean to them, he knew it was too soon, but in the way Templance looked at him, he knew she sensed something. He gave her an apologetic look but she just smiled that sweet smile of hers and patted his face. Castiel knew everything was gonna be alright. 

**

Chuck Novak came one day from Church and found the house empty. He called out for his daughters but nobody answered. He went to Emily’s house, she received him with her face bruised, but her father didn’t acknowledge it, he was sure she must have disrespected her husband and she had been corrected. That’s the way things were supposed to be. At least one of his daughters complied with God’s commandments and was a good obedient wife. Anael had gone to live with her husband to another state, so there was no chance that they were there.

Defeated and upset, hurt and sad, he went back home and burnt all his children’s stuff, their clothes, photographs, everything that could testify that they once were there. Bitter and confused, wondering why did God continue to punish him, he kept his already small ministry alive for a while, but his sermons became so violent, that most folks decided to try the church next town.

The only thing he kept was the shattered cell phone that for some reason was still functional, he copied his son’s phone number on a piece of paper and put it on the fridge. He often wondered why. 

Time went by, the church was a distant memory, he turned into a miserable drunk, the house dusty, he did not even attempt to fix anything. The upper floor was inhabitable, the ground one was a mess. The was no cow left, a fire had destroyed the barn a few months ago. Chuck didn’t notice. 

On the last Thursday of a month like any other month, after drinking a whole bottle of the worst scotch he had found in the store, he felt the weight of his wasted life over his shoulders, a weight so heavy that the regrets of his broken life became too much to carry anymore, and only then he finally understood that he had been wrong all along.  _ He had been the sinner _ . He had been the one to blame. With that in mind he got up from the only chair that wasn’t broken and stumbled towards the fridge. He grabbed the piece of paper and turned on the phone, he squinted at the bright broken screen and dialed his son’s number. 

Castiel had kept his old phone number for his sisters and Monica only and had long ago deleted the number from the old phone he had bought for his sisters a lifetime ago. Chuck dialed and waited, he heard the other phone ringing. On the other side, Castiel had his eyes fixed on the TV, every channel was showing Dean Winchester naked underneath an equally naked Cas. He never heard the phone, he was shocked at the images on the TV. He had to find Dean, he had to be with him. 

Cas went to the table to grab his wallet, phones, and keys, when he noticed a call on the old one. He didn’t know the number.  _ A telemarketer _ , he thought, then hit the green button but nobody answered, so shoving the phone in his pocket he rushed to the door. 

Five hundred miles away, Chuck’s body collapsed on the floor. He took his last breath with the sound of his son, his own personal miracle, saying “Hello?”, then it all went black. 

He passed away before the scandal that threatened to destroy Castiel reached West Virginia. Maybe it was God’s way to save him from that pain or perhaps it was His way of punishing Chuck by keeping him away from his children.                                                              

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 


End file.
